Measure of Man
by Tigereye77
Summary: Malcolm is accused of killing another member of the crew.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: What I've been posting are some old Enterprise stories I wrote a while back and had been on the Hoshi Sato site, Linguistics Database. I didn't realize it until I started re-reading these, but there's an actual progression in a series of stories. I didn't start off writing them with that intention, but it seemed to have just happened. This story is actually my first Enterprise story, but the unintentional series I created, I'm putting it here as the third story. The first two stories have already been posted: Beyond the Sea and Only A Trifle. It's not necessary to read those stories to follow this one, again, they weren't meant to be connected but when read all together, you can see a thread going through them. For those who read my stuff at Linguistics Database, you probably already know the other three stories in this six story arc. And yes, I will finish that last one!**

Malcolm Reed truly believed he was experiencing the worst hangover in existence. So painful was the throbbing in his head, he didn't dare attempt to open his eyes. Instead, he allowed his other senses to activate, one by one. The surface he was lying on was hard and uncompromising, even though it was covered in some type of clothe. The material felt rough and scratchy against the skin on his face. With the headache came heightened sensitivity and the tips of his fingers felt every fiber in the weave of the fabric.

His nose detected the familiar detergent smell used to launder everything on the Enterprise. The smell reminded him of his mother ironing sheets, warm with a faint whiff of hot sun on grass, normally something very comforting, but right now, it made his already queasy stomach feel worse.

The usual hum of the ship as it sliced through space was magnified by the intense throbbing in his head. He winced, realizing that this was most likely what Hoshi felt like all the time. He absently made a note to be a bit more sympathetic towards the ensign when she winced at loud noises.

There was an acidic, stale taste in his mouth and he longed for water to wet his tongue and soothe his parched throat.

_All right, Malcolm,_ he thought to himself. _Time to suck it up._

Slowly, he opened his eyes and he quickly clamped them shut again, his corneas feeling like they had been set ablaze by the brightness of the room. With even greater caution, he tried again and this time the light was not so piercing. He tried to focus his vision.

For several moments, his brain could not process what he saw. Confusion and disbelief overwhelmed his nausea and Malcolm pushed himself up into a sitting position to look around the room.

It was empty save for the bunk he was lying on and a toilet in one corner. The room was no larger than ten by twelve feet with bars across the only opening. It was cold and forbidding, meant to intimidate.

He knew where he was. As the Enterprise Security Chief/Armory Officer, he was familiar with every inch of the ship, but next to the bridge and armory, he was most familiar with this place. He was in the brig.

"What the hell-?"

An outside door slid open and Captain Archer and Commander Tucker stepped into the room beyond his cell. Malcolm stumbled to his feet and lurched towards the bars.

"Sirs-," he began.

"So you're finally awake," Trip snarled out. "About time."

"Trip," Archer warned. The Captain turned cold, furious eyes towards Reed. "Is there anything you'd like to say about what happened, Lieutenant Reed?"

Malcolm had never heard the Captain's voice so hard and unyielding. He glanced over at Trip who looked as though he wanted to rip him to shreds with his bare hands. Desperately, Malcolm tried to remember what had happened. What could he have possibly done to land in the brig with both the Captain and the Commander furious with him?

His hangover. Alcohol must have played some part, but he could not remember taking a drink in a while. But he could think of nothing else. Given his condition, he must have went on a real bender.

"I-, I guess I had too much to drink, sirs," he said lamely.

"Too much to drink!" Trip barked out. "Is that your damn excuse for what you did?"

What he did? What did he do? Did he create some diplomatic error? Cause some explosion? What?

"Sir," Malcolm began, addressing Archer. "I'm sorry, but I don't remember anything. The last thing I remember is…" he paused a moment, trying to grasp the last memory he had. A face floated before him. Hoshi. That was it. He had another target practice session with Hoshi. "I was target practicing with Ensign Sato."

"Malcolm," Archer cautioned. "Are you sure you want to say anything else? Maybe you'd like to speak to someone first. Legal counsel."

_Legal counsel? Bloody hell, what was going on?_

"Captain," Malcolm sputtered desperately. "Please, I don't remember what happened. Why am I in the brig?"

"Oh, ain't that peachy keen," Trip drawled out sarcastically as he threw his hands up in the air. "He conveniently doesn't remember. Amnesia. You going to plead insanity next, Lieutenant?"

"Plead insanity-, what is going on?" Malcolm cried out.

"It's not going to work, Reed," Trip said as he pointed a finger at Malcolm. "We've got indisputable proof."

"Trip-," Archer warned.

"No, Captain!" Trip interrupted fiercely. "After what he did, I ain't going to stand by and listen to him play the innocent." He swung back towards the cell. "You're going to pay."

Trip strode over to one of the monitors on the wall and punched in a code. Malcolm leaned against the bars to get a better look. A video began to play on the screen. It was of the armory. He was helping Hoshi with target practice. A few weeks ago, he had installed a camera to record their sessions so Hoshi could review her practices and improve her technique. Malcolm didn't understand what it was he was supposed to see.

"You're still tensing too much," he heard himself say to Hoshi. He watched as he moved up behind the young ensign and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Relax," he said softly as he gently kneaded the muscles there.

An uncomfortable expression appeared on Hoshi's face. She tried to shrug off his hands, but they remained on her shoulders.

"Sir," Hoshi said. "I've had enough practice today." She tried to walk away.

Malcolm stopped her and spun her around. "What's the matter Hoshi?" he asked softly. "You don't want my help anymore?" He backed her up until she was pinned against some storage containers. Malcolm pressed his body close into hers and nuzzled her neck. "Hoshi, Hoshi," he chanted softly. "So pretty. And you smell so wonderful."

"Sir," Hoshi swallowed, her voice taking on a fearful note. "I don't think you should be doing this."

"Why not ensign? I could order you." His face came close to hers and he gazed intently into her wide, brown eyes. "I'm sure you would enjoy it."

Hoshi gasped. With a loud cry, she pushed him away and retreated several steps. "You stay away from me! When Captain Archer hears about this, you'll be lucky if he doesn't shoot you himself!"

"You little bitch, you're not telling anyone," Malcolm snarled.

Hoshi turned to flee, but he was too fast and caught her arm. She swung wildly at him and he let go of her. Off balance, Hoshi fell backwards with a cry. The sound of her head striking the corner of a storage container was dull and sickening.

"Hoshi!" Malcolm cried out.

He bent down and examined her, his hand touching her head. From behind the bars, Malcolm could see that his hand was covered in blood.

Trip stopped the video and turned back towards Malcolm. For several minutes, no one spoke. Trip and Archer looked at Malcolm as he simply stared at the blank screen. Finally, the armory officer turned to look at the other two men.

"Sir, I simply don't remember any of that," was Malcolm's hoarse reply. Shock, horror, revulsion roiled inside of him. Was that him? Did he do that? And to Hoshi of all people. "Is Hoshi all right?"

He saw Archer and Trip exchange glances. Finally, Archer spoke.

"Hoshi died two hours after that incident in the armory," was Archer's clipped reply. "You killed her."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

The words made no sense to Malcolm. Hoshi dead? And by his hands? Impossible.

His mouth opened and closed several times before he was able to speak. "Sir," Malcolm said hoarsely. "That's impossible. What happened on that," he waved at the screen where he had watched the replay of the incident, "could not have happened. I would never, never have done that to Hoshi or any woman."

Trip snorted loudly and walked over to lean against a wall. He folded his arms across his chest and glared murderously at Malcolm.

Archer's voice was mild, but Malcolm could hear the underlying anger in it. "Lieutenant Reed, we have the tape-"

"I don't care what the hell you have!" Malcolm shouted. He winced as his throat protested the action and his head began to pound with even greater force. It hurt so much that his breathing became labored as he waited for the pain to subside. When he spoke again, his voice was more moderated. "Sir, tape can be forged, doctored. I didn't attempt to force Hoshi into a sexual encounter with me and I definitely did not let her fall and strike her head."

"You had blood on your hands-," Archer began.

"Maybe I found her? Was that it?" Malcolm's mind began to work again, a plausible scenario formulating. "You found me with blood on my hands. If I found her, I would have naturally examined the wound. Then-, then whoever did it must have doctored a tape. It was no secret we taped our training sessions." Malcolm looked hopefully at the Captain.

"Malcolm," Archer's patience was beginning to leave him and his voice took on a harsher tone. "Just stop it. I didn't say we found you with blood on your hands standing over Hoshi. Someone saw you leaving the armory and went in immediately after you had left and found Hoshi. You were discovered two hours later, drunk, sitting in one of the shuttle-"

"Probably trying to make a run for it like a coward," Trip interjected angrily.

"pods with blood on your hands," Archer continued. He threw a warning glance at Trip.

"The witness, how can you believe the witness?" Malcolm cried out desperately. "Maybe the witness is guilty and is trying to frame me."

"The witness," Archer's crisp voice intoned. "Is Subcommander T'Pol."

Malcolm closed his eyes and leaned his head against the bars of his cell. T'Pol. If there was one person on this ship who possibly could not be lying, it would be her. The throbbing in his head became more acute and he found it increasingly difficult to concentrate, but Malcolm still refused to believe he could be guilty of this crime, despite his lack of memory.

"No, no, no," he chanted softly. He opened his eyes and looked at the Captain. The good-humor and compassion that was always on Jonathan Archer's face were gone. All Malcolm saw was anger and loathing. Everyone knew that Hoshi and the Captain had some type of relationship that went deeper and was more involved than any he had with the crew save for Trip. How deep of a relationship was a subject of much speculation, but whether they were lovers or good friends didn't really matter right now. Archer was furious beyond belief and Malcolm suspected the other man would gladly help Trip tear him to pieces.

"Sir," Malcolm said quietly. "I don't remember anything. I don't remember trying to force myself on Hoshi, I don't remember making her fall. I don't remember getting drunk! I don't remember any of it!"

Trip snorted again. "Tell it to the Starfleet Tribunal."

Archer nodded. "Dr. Phlox said this might happen. That bottle of bourbon you ingested was tainted. In fact, you were close to dying yourself before Phlox pulled you through."

"Too bad he did," Trip commented darkly. "But that was before we found the tape."

"We're meeting up with a Vulcan ship in two days," Archer continued. "You'll be transferred to them and taken back to Earth to stand trial," a pained look crossed Archer's face, "along with Hoshi's body where she'll be buried."

Malcolm shivered. This can't be happening, he thought wildly. This can't!

"Commander," Archer nodded at Trip to follow him as he turned to go.

'I'll catch up with you in a minute, sir," Trip replied as he walked slowly towards the cell. He stopped and stared at Reed.

"Trip," the Captain warned.

"Don't worry, I don't intend to beat him or anything," Trip replied, his eyes never leaving Malcolm.

Archer hesitated a moment and then nodded. He left without another word or glance at Malcolm.

Malcolm's head was still leaning against the bars of his cell. He still could not believe this was happening and why couldn't he remember a single thing? He had been drunk before, but had never completely blacked out.

He felt a hand grasp the front of his uniform and he was yanked hard up against the bars, his face pressed tightly between two of them. Trip leaned in until he was nearly nose-to-nose with him. Malcolm stared into the Southerner's blue eyes, nearly black with rage and wondered if he was safe.


	3. Chapter 3

"You just couldn't stand it that she didn't want you, huh?" Trip sneered.

"What are you talking about?" Malcolm whispered.

"Hoshi said no, so you got mad," Trip continued. His grip on Malcolm tightened and he pulled the lieutenant closer against the bars. The cold metal bit into his face, and he had no choice but to look straight into Trip's hate-filled eyes. "Malcolm Reed, the great ladies' man had a woman say no so he got upset and decided to hurt her."

With every bit of strength in his weakened body, Malcolm tore himself out of Trip's grasp. He teetered and lost his balance. His knees buckled and he collapsed on the cell floor. "I did not attack Hoshi!" he yelled out. His hands went to his head as the pain increased. "I didn't," he whimpered.

"You can deny it all you want, Reed," Trip shot back. "But we got the proof and ain't no one is going to believe your lame story about not remembering anything." He crouched down so he was level with the other man. His voice took on a low, more menacing tone. He sounded more dangerous, darker than Malcolm had ever heard him.

"I warned Hoshi about you. Ever since I found out about you and all those women and how you never gave a damn about any of them, I knew you would be trouble for someone like Hoshi. She was too young, too sweet and pretty. Too vulnerable."

"You warned her?" Malcolm looked at Trip in disbelief. "Trip, we're friends, how could you-"

"My friends aren't murderers!" Trip roared. The hand he ran through his hair shook slightly. "Dammit, she was so young!" Trip allowed him self the luxury of an angry, anguish sobbed before he glared at Reed. "Why didn't you pick on someone else? Someone who wanted the attention? No, you had to go for someone you couldn't have."

Malcolm shook his head, but remained silent.

"Always wanting to belong, to be a part of somethin' bigger," Trip drawled out. His head tilted to one side as he peered intently between the bars. "Hoshi deserved better."

Malcolm looked up, fighting with the nausea that seemed to grow worse with every passing second. "I never, never forced a woman in my life, or even considered such a thing."

"You know, do you think if you keep repeating that that it'll become the truth?" Trip shook his head. "I knew it was a mistake for Jon to pick you." Trip stood and looked down at Reed. "You're worthless Malcolm and you're a cold-blooded, murderin' son of a bitch."

Trip turned on his heel and quickly left.

Malcolm closed his eyes, Trip's words reverberating in his head. _Worthless_. His friend, a man he thought he had built a bond with after their experience in the shuttlepod, called him worthless. His father's voice replaced that of Trip's.

_My God boy! I can't believe I fathered such a worthless pup!_

Slowly, Malcolm dragged himself towards the bunk. With his last ounce of strength, he pulled himself up into it. He curled up into a fetal position and dropped off into an uneasy sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: In response to a few questions, this story is about 7-10 parts. I haven't decided fully yet how some of the division will go. As for the "ladies man" comment Trip made, I know it's been a while since I've watched it but this story was written back when Enterprise was still airing, relates to a conversation Trip and Malcolm had in the episode "Shuttlepod One".**

He felt a pressure on his neck and heard the sound of a hypospray being used. Malcolm's eyes fluttered open and he saw Dr. Phlox bending over him.

"Doctor-?"

"We'd best step back out of the cell, doctor," the security guard behind Phlox said. The two moved into the outer area and slid the bars closed as Malcolm struggled up into a sitting position.

The world spun and Malcolm fought the urge to vomit. He saw a tray of food and his stomach twisted, but he fought back his nausea. He looked at Phlox, still standing on the other side of the bars even though the guard had left.

"The affects of the tainted alcohol you consumed are beginning to wear off," Dr. Phlox said as he observed Reed with his bright blue eyes.

"So this is what it feels like to be better," Malcolm commented sarcastically. He picked up the cup of water on the tray and drank greedily, the cool liquid soothing his parched mouth and throat. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand and looked at Phlox. "Doctor, wasn't there any evidence, any at all that pointed to someone else?"

"You mean someone else who could have killed Ensign Sato?" Phlox clarified. He shook his head. "All DNA evidence I found belonged to you."

"And there were no signs of an intruder on the ship? Anything?" Malcolm's voice began to take on a note of desperation.

"We combed the entire ship."

"Well there has to be another explanation!" Malcolm exploded. He winced as his head throbbed madly. He pressed the heel of one hand pressed against his right eye. "I…did…not…kill…Hoshi."

"Well, perhaps you'll be able to find some other evidence." The tone of the Denobelan's voice indicated he did not believe that would happen.

Malcolm laughed hollowly. "Damn little I can do locked up here." He looked up. "Aside from that tape, I'd like to see the evidence against me."

Phlox puffed out a gentle breathe. "That would have to be something the Captain decides, I'm afraid."

"Could you ask him for me?" Malcolm lurched towards the bars and peered intently at the alien. "Please, I can't believe I did something like that. I don't remember anything. I need to see everything for myself."

Dr. Phlox hesitated, but he finally nodded. "I will see what I am able to do."

"Thank you," Malcolm whispered in relief.

Phlox nodded again and left. Malcolm was alone once more. He glanced over at the food tray, but knew he wouldn't be able to stomach anything. His head still hurt. He slid down against the bars and stared at the blank wall at the opposite end of the cell.

_How could this be happening? _Malcolm thought. Never, never had he even thought of Hoshi in that way. Yes, she was attractive, but so young and sweet and he still wasn't sure what her relationship was with the Captain. When he thought she had been interested in him, he had quickly retreated, only to realize she was merely acting as the Captain's agent in finding out his favorite food. Again, that link with the Captain. He knew enough to not encroach on what may be his commanding officer's territory. He wouldn't be foolish enough to risk something like that.

Why would he suddenly and abruptly suggest Hoshi sleep with him, even order her to do so?

There had to be an explanation. There had to be a reason. A foreign toxin in his system? Malcolm paused. Maybe the bourbon wasn't tainted, maybe he was given something prior to that. Would Phlox have found anything while he was being treate? Not if he wasn't looking for it. He needed to examine the evidence they had gathered.

It had to be something like that, Malcolm decided. Because I can't live with it if what they say is true.


	5. Chapter 5

"Lieutenant Reed."

Malcolm started awake. He had fallen asleep, leaning against his bunk. Slowly, he raised his head and focused his eyes. T'Pol stood on the other side of the bars, a small stack of data padds in her hands.

"The Captain has granted your request to review the evidence," she continued. She slid the padds through the bars and clasped her hands behind her back.

Reed slowly moved over to them. He bent down to retrieve the padds. Leaning against the bars, he scrolled through the first one. He was surprised when T'Pol did not leave. He looked inquiringly at her.

She returned his stare, cold and emotionless, devoid of any expression. Malcolm had fantasized about her from their first meeting. He admitted that his interest had been mainly curiosity about Vulcan females, but he couldn't deny that she was attractive. He thought most men on the ship found the Subcommander an object of fantasy.

"You seem to be able to tolerate my existence, Subcommander," Malcolm muttered as he continued to read through the first report.

"The Captain requested I remain to answer any questions you may have," she replied.

A flash of hope went through Malcolm. "Does he-, does he think I might be innocent?"

She raised an eyebrow. "No," she said in that same detached voice.

Malcolm deflated immediately and barked out a hollow laugh. You're a bloody fool, Malcolm, he thought to himself as he continued to scroll through the padds.

He forced himself to read through Hoshi's autopsy report. Blunt trauma to the head. She had died on the operating table. He felt himself shiver slightly as he remembered the sound of her head striking.

Along with T'Pol's statement, there were other crewmen who reported seeing him acting distractedly as he headed for the shuttlebay.

Malcolm paused. If he intended to run away, why did he stop to get drunk? He rubbed his eyes as the headache came roaring back. Damn, what the hell was that bourbon tainted with?

He looked at his own medical reports. The bottle of bourbon was on the shuttlepod. It had been tainted by some core samples they had brought back from a mission three weeks ago. Malcolm remembered that mission. The sample box was placed on top of the storage unit in which the bourbon was stored. Phlox believed it somehow managed to leak through the layers of containers.

Phlox found nothing else in Malcolm's system. No foreign drugs or viruses.

Security had reported no intruders.

"You're sure it was me you saw?" Malcolm whispered. He looked into T'Pol's face. "It was me leaving the armory."

"Yes."

"It can't be," Malcolm violently shook his head and then winced in pain.

"All evidence points-"

"I don't give a damn about the evidence!" Malcolm yelled out. He threw the data padds against the bars. He fiercely pounded his chest. "I know in here I would never hurt Hoshi!"

"That is illogical reasoning-"

"To hell with logic!" He glared at the Vulcan. How could he have ever found her attractive, this cold, bloodless female?

"You are becoming agitated, Lieutenant Reed," T'Pol replied. "Please calm down or I will be forced to suggest you be placed in restraints."

Malcolm laughed bitterly and collapsed onto his bed. "Don't worry Subcommander, I feel as weak as a newborn."

He gazed at the Vulcan with a hard stare. T'Pol calmly returned his look. "You think I did it, don't you?"

It is the only logical conclusion."

"But why?" Malcolm exploded. The throbbing in his head increased, but he ignored it. He stumbled back towards the bars and grasped them with his hands. "Why would I ever hurt Hoshi?"

T'Pol raised an eyebrow. "To cover your indiscretion," was her cool reply.

"But that's just it!" Malcolm cried out in exasperation. "I would never have suggested such a thing to Hoshi!"

"You did not find Ensign Sato attractive?"

"No! I mean, yes, I did, but I wouldn't have used my rank to force her into a relationship! Especially when I thought that there, well, might be a relationship of some nature with the Captain."

"You believe Ensign Sato and Captain Archer are involved?"

"I don't know," Malcolm sighed. He leaned his aching head against the bars. "Maybe. Damn this headache."

"I have found that sometimes human males often pursue something they believe is unattainable."

Malcolm was unable to control the blush that crept into his cheeks, remembering his own dreams about the unattainable T'Pol. He noticed the Vulcan ignored the flush.

"Do you wish to continue reviewing the evidence, or shall I remove the padds now?" T'Pol inquired.

"Oh no," Malcolm muttered as he gathered the data padds he had thrown. "I want to be certain every possible avenue has been explored." He sat down on the floor and leaned against the bars.

T'Pol remained standing, her eyebrow arched. "It already has been, Lieutenant."


	6. Chapter 6

"Sir?"

Malcolm blinked his eyes open and stared up into the face of Travis Mayweather. He groaned slightly as the crick in his neck protested the movement. He had fallen asleep on the floor, leaning against the bars. The young ensign gave him a pale shadow of his usual grin.

"The Captain said I could bring you this," Travis continued as he slipped a book through the bars.

Mayweather had brought the latest book Malcolm was reading. It was a copy of Kafka's "The Metamorphosis". Malcolm nearly broke down into hysterical laughter. He could certainly sympathize with the changed and bizarre reality that swirled around Gregor Samsa. Truth be told, the loathing he was feeling emanating from his friends and co-workers made him feel something like a cockroach.

"Thank you Mr. Mayweather," Malcolm replied as he took the slim volume. He eyed the other man closely. "So, does everyone on the ship think I did it?"

Travis shifted uncomfortably on his feet. He then crouched down to where he would be eye-level with Malcolm who had remained seated on the floor. He stared at the older man with his large, kind eyes, his smile gone.

"Sir," he began. "You know Captain Archer wouldn't be doing this unless he was absolutely certain."

And that was it. No matter how many times he combed through the evidence, Malcolm knew the Captain must have done the same thing. Jonathan Archer would have gone the extra length just to be certain he had reached the right conclusion: that one of his crew was guilty of murder. He would have gone beyond what was fair until confronted with no other possibility, Malcolm's guilt.

Malcolm sighed. He leaned against the bars and stared at one of the cell's walls.

"How could this have happened, Travis?" Malcolm asked quietly. "How could I have done something like that?"

Mayweather shrugged. "You did like Hoshi, right?"

"Of course I did. She's sweet and kind." Malcolm smiled at a memory. "Tenacious as hell and really rather charming when she blushes."

"Was," Mayweather said crisply.

Malcolm glanced sharply at Travis who simply returned the stare.

"Was," Malcolm amended. Images of Hoshi flashed through his mind. She was so vibrant and alive in his memories, that he could not imagine her dead. And at his own hands no less.

"You're meeting the Vulcan ship tomorrow," Travis continued. "What are you going to do?"

Malcolm laughed bitterly. "I think there's damn precious little I can do, Travis." He paused to take a deep breath. "I never imagined it would end like this, in a court martial."

"Starfleet doesn't have capital punishment."

"It would be better if they did," Malcolm replied darkly. "Spending the rest of my life in some prison, knowing that everyone, my family, my friends believing I killed Hoshi. I'd rather just end it all."

"Are you serious?" Travis asked in a startled tone.

Malcolm turned to look into the young man's face. Was he serious? Deadly. He once told Trip that everyone he cared about was on the Enterprise and it was true. But now, all those people, the people whose opinion mattered the most, they all believed he was a cold-hearted killer. His family would abandon him just as his friends have. What was left for him?

"Yes," Malcolm replied. "If I had the choice, I would end my life."

Travis hesitated. "If-, if you're serious, maybe I can say something to the Captain."

Malcolm looked at Mayweather in surprise. "What, tell him to let me commit suicide? I hardly believe he would allow that."

Mayweather stood up abruptly. "Just give me a chance to talk to him." He smiled more broadly at Malcolm than when he had first walked in. "You saved me back on that asteroid. I think I owe you a favor." He turned and walked out of the brig.


	7. Chapter 7

"Mr. Reed," Archer said as Malcolm stood up to greet his Captain.

"Sir," he returned weakly. Phlox had come back to give him another injection, but he felt little better than when he first woke up in the brig.

"Mr. Mayweather informed me of your conversation with him." When Malcolm remained silent, Archer continued. "I want to say that I'm surprised, but I can't honestly do that."

"I hand picked the crew for this mission, Lieutenant," Archer said as he folded his arms across his chest. Malcolm noticed how much larger Archer seemed to grow, taller and broader. Was Archer always this much bigger than himself? Or did the Captain's anger seem to make him appear even more larger than life? "There were some doubts about you, your loner attitude, but I ignored that because of your top-notch qualifications." He stepped closer to the bars. "But never in a million years did I ever peg you for a murdering bastard!"

Malcolm involuntarily took a step back, almost stumbling. Never had he heard such venom come from Jonathan Archer. Waves of hate rolled off the taller man so strongly Reed thought he could physically feel them.

The Captain stared back at the armory officer with hatred and cold fury in his eyes, turning their normal warm green shade into cold, hard crystal. "Hoshi was the most important person in my life and you took her away from me. I loved her and she loved me, but you couldn't stand it. You couldn't stand not having her."

"Sir, I'm sorry-," Malcolm stammered, shocked by the confirmation of his suspicions and more than a little frightened by this change in the man he so admired and liked. This depth of anger and complete disgust and contempt was just so unlike Archer, it was as if it was a different person.

"You want to kill yourself, fine," Archer snarled out. "Because a sack of shit like you isn't worth the expense of a trial." He withdrew a hypospray from a pocket in his uniform and threw it onto the cell floor where it rolled gently towards Malcolm's feet, stopping a mere three inches from the toes of his boots. "My only regret is that you aren't going to die a slow and painful death."

Malcolm stared blankly at the hypospray and then looked up at the Captain.

"You're worthless, Lieutenant. You didn't deserve to be on this ship and you didn't deserve to know Hoshi," Archer spat out. His hands trembled with fury as they hung at his sides, twitching as though it took all of his self-control to not reach forward to strangle Malcolm. "I want you to remember how many lives you destroyed, how much pain you've caused. You've brought nothing but trouble, Reed. I hope there is some afterlife so you can spend an eternity burning in hell!"

Archer turned on his heel, slammed on the release that opened the brig's door and left quickly.

Malcolm stared silently at the door that had closed behind the Captain. Archer's words rang in his head. If there was one man whose respect and good opinion he valued, it was Jonathan Archer's. But, once again, he had fouled things up. His father's voice came back to him again.

_Not that way, Malcolm! Can't you do anything right, boy?_

_You'll never get anywhere, Malcolm. My God! You're such a clumsy oaf!_

_Starfleet? Starfleet? Reed men have always been Navy! But then again, it is you. No doubt you'll muck that up as well._

Malcolm covered his ears in an attempt to block out the sound of his father's voice, but he couldn't. The years of harsh words between the two replayed over and over in his head. His father must feel vindicated now; the son he had always thought was a bad lot was proving the old man right.

He still could not remember what had led up to the incident in the armory. Why had he suddenly tried to force himself onto Hoshi? Yes, he had always liked her and found her attractive, but there was always that nagging suspicion about her relationship with the Captain. He was a cautious man and it would have been insane of him to try to make a play for the Captain's woman. It didn't make any sense!

The pounding in his head increased and he swore softly. The hypospray, glinting brightly in the cell's lights caught his eye.

End it all and everyone would be happy. After all, that is what they wanted, his death; an eye for an eye. His family would not have to live with the shame should he survive. Maybe for a few months they would have to endure it and then it would be forgotten. Not like having a son in prison for years acting as a constant reminder. Archer made it clear that he wanted Malcolm dead as did Trip.

Who in the universe gave a damn if Malcolm Reed died today?


	8. Chapter 8

"Malcolm."

The soft breath was a caress against his ear; a voice he thought he would never hear again, sweet and musical, ethereal in quality.

"Hoshi," he croaked out desperately.

"I'm here, Malcolm," he heard her say.

"How?" He answered his own question. "I'm dreaming."

"Yes," was her sad reply.

"Well, if I'm dreaming, I want to see you," he demanded stubbornly.

Hoshi Sato appeared before him, kneeling beside his bunk. She wasn't in her Starfleet uniform, but in a soft, flowing white gown, her dark hair unbound and flying freely. Her eyes were luminous and her smile was as sweet as he remembered it. In the dark, foreboding brig cell she appeared to be bathed in a soft, warm glow, a star in the darkness.

"I'm so sorry," he cried out. Tears began to run down his face as the emotion of seeing her again overwhelmed him.

"I know, Malcolm," she replied gently. "I know."

He let out a choked sob. Only his victim forgave him. Only his victim remained his friend. How could he have even contemplated hurting this woman? Malcolm looked at her from behind the veil of tears in his eyes.

"Please, I never wanted to hurt you," he whispered. "Please, believe that."

"I do, Malcolm," she said quietly. Sadness settled over her delicate features.

Her expression sent a pang of pain through him. _Great Malcolm, kill her first and then make her upset_, he thought wildly to himself. _I would do anything to see her smile again; that sweet smile that she gave me when she first appeared._

"I'm so sorry," he repeated as his tears began again. He clamped his eyes shut in an attempt to stop them. "You didn't deserve to die!"

"Yes, Malcom," Hoshi answered softly. "All you wanted was my love."

"What?" His eyes flew up in startled surprise and he stared at the apparition before him. "All I wanted was your love?" He was confused. Did he?

"My love, anyone's love," Hoshi said gently. "That's all you ever wanted Malcolm, someone to love you. To love someone and be loved back. Unconditionally."

The last of his reserves left him and ugly, wrenching sobs burst forth. It was true. He had never felt such love before in his life. The closest had been from his sister, but even she had been scarred by their upbringing, always holding back something of herself, making him wonder if anyone in his family would be capable of such love. Was he?

He just wanted to be a part of something. To be accepted. To be loved.

Had that what he had been seeking when he attacked Hoshi? There were no memories of what he had been thinking or the incident itself, save for what he saw on the tape. But Malcolm had to admit that during his time with Hoshi, he had felt a growing awareness, a closeness towards her, a bond of sorts that was unlike any he had with any woman before. Had he pursued that?

_That must be it_, Malcolm thought in his ill and exhausted. He was an armory officer and head of security. He was supposed to be aggressive. Trained and drilled to be that way. He must have gotten it into his mind that what he wanted was Hoshi, and he had attacked her. That must have been the motivation, and in his muddled, pain-filled state, it made perfect sense to him.

His head ached and it seemed easier to just finally accept that it all as true. Pieces were still missing, but Malcolm was too tired, too sick to fight and argue anymore.

The sadness still lingered on Hoshi's pretty features.

"How can I make it right?" he whispered wearily. "How can I make everything right?"

"You know how to make it right, Malcolm," Hoshi said.

His eyes slid over to the hypospray. It remained in the same spot where Archer had thrown it down earlier.

"Hoshi-," he reached out to touch her, but she disappeared in a gentle veil of smoke, her sad smile the last thing he saw, an elusive Cheshire cat never to be seen again.

"Hoshi," he whispered to the empty cell.

Yes, Malcolm Reed knew what he had to do to make it right, to remove the sadness from Hoshi's face. He pushed himself off the bunk and collapsed onto his hands and knees, too ill to stand upright. Malcolm crawled over to the hypospray and picked it.


	9. Chapter 9

The silence was comforting. The engines no longer hummed and his head seemed to ache less. It was simply quiet.

Malcolm's peace was disrupted by the door of the brig sliding open. He heard a symphony of different voices, loud and intruding on his solitude.

"What the hell-?"

It was Trip. Malcolm would recognize that voice anywhere.

"This is unbelievable."

Captain Archer.

"Captain, I think I found the control panel." A third voice. Female, cool, detached. Subcommander T'Pol.

He heard the sound of a panel being pried open and a few clicks. Something sounded as though it was powering down.

"Son of a bitch."

Trip again. Malcolm sighed inwardly, too sick to respond in any way. It must be time to move him to the Vulcan ship. He had been too cowardly to use the hypospray, to kill himself and settle accounts in the universe.

"Can you get it open?" Archer said.

"Should only take me a minute," Trip replied. "I want to know why they abandoned ship."

"I believe I can answer that Commander," T'Pol called out. Her scanner was whirring and chirping, each note pounding away at Malcolm's head. "The ship is set to self destruct in five minutes."

"Trip…," Malcolm heard Archer urged.

Self destruct? They can't open the cell? Malcolm frowned. What was going on?

"Captain, I think I found one of their databases," T'Pol said.

"Great. Gather what you can and we can have Hoshi translate it. Archer to Enterprise."

"Yes sir."

"Hoshi, meet us in shuttlebay 2. I want you to figure out what are in these data modules we're bringing back with us."

"Yes sir."

That voice. That sweet, lilting voice. It was Hoshi. Hoshi!

"Got it open!"

Malcolm tried to raise his head but could do little more than turn it upwards to look up at the men who rushed into his cell and hovered over him. He gazed blearily up at Trip and Archer who strangely wore looks that appeared to be concern. But Trip and the Captain hated him. Why would they be worried about him now?

"Malcolm!" the Captain called out, his voice laden with anxiety.

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

"We gotcha you buddy," Trip said as he and the Captain hauled him to his feet. Reed saw the Captain glance down at something on the floor and watched as the other man picked up the hypospray. A flicker of fear ran through him. Was this some game to torture him and were Trip and the Captain going to administer the lethal injection themselves? The Captain had said he thought the hypospray was too easy of a way out for Malcolm. Were they going to do something else to him? Malcolm thought to struggle, but his limbs would not respond and he simply sagged between the two other men like a limp, rag doll.

"T'Pol!" Archer snapped out. "Get to the shuttle and prep it for launch. We're right behind you."

"Aye Captain," the Vulcan replied. "We have three minutes and twenty-five seconds." She turned on her heel and ran out of the room, carrying several small cubes filled with information.

Malcolm felt himself lifted up to his feet, Trip and the Captain supporting him on either side. They rushed him out of the brig and down a long corridor, almost carrying him completely, his feet just barely grazing the floor. The walls they passed were but a pale blur. Malcolm felt his head spin and he wanted to protest being moved so quickly but he seemed unable to speak.

They reached the shuttle and hustled him inside. As Trip strapped him into a seat, Archer took over flight controls. Malcolm felt the shuttle disengage from the other ship he had been on and bank sharply, his stomach roiled queasily and from the look Trip gave him and his involuntarily flinching knew the Southerner feared Malcolm was about to give him an unpleasant surprise. The Commander's reaction almost made Malcolm laugh, had he the strength and energy to.

"How long before it blows, T'Pol?" Archer called out.

"One minute, ten seconds."

"We'll be out of range by then. Enterprise, this is the Captain, make sure Phlox is in the shuttlebay to meet us."

Malcolm heard the whirl of a medical scanner and he gazed wearily at Subcommander T'Pol.

"How is he?" Trip asked anxiously. He gave Malcolm a reassuring smile, but still maintained a bit of distance.

"I'm detecting numerous foreign toxins in his system," the Vulcan replied as she examined the results.

"Don't worry, buddy," Trip said to Malcolm, finally venturing to give his friend a reassuring pat on his leg. "The Doc will get you all patched up."

_Buddy?_ Malcolm blinked. Trip hated him. Trip wanted to kill him for what he did to Hoshi. They were taking him to the Vulcan ship, weren't they?

He saw Trip and T'Pol watching him. All Malcolm could do was blink stupidly again at them. His head hurt too much to form a coherent thought.

He felt the shuttle rock.

"Shockwaves from the ship exploding," Archer called out over his shoulder. "We're clear though."

"Why isn't he talking?" Trip asked T'Pol, concerned about Malcolm's continued silence.

"We cannot be certain the affects of the substances in his system are having on Lieutenant Reed," the Subcommander replied. "It would be best to wait for Dr. Phlox."

_Substances?_ But Phlox had cleared him. They found nothing in his system to explain why he had attacked Hoshi. Malcolm frowned. But he had heard Hoshi's voice a few minutes ago. She came to visit him in his cell.

Malcolm groaned as his ever-present headache began to pound again. The heels of his hands went to his eyes and he pressed them hard against the orbs, rubbing them frantically.

"Captain," Trip called out anxiously. He reached forward to gently pull Malcolm's hands away from his eyes.

"We're here!" Archer called out in response.

It took them a few minutes to dock and re-pressurize the shuttlebay. The Captain and Trip gently helped Reed to his feet and out of the shuttle.

Malcolm stood still for a moment, blinking in the bright lights of the shuttlebay. As his eyes focused, he saw Dr. Phlox walking towards him. But he caught a glimpse of a slight figure behind the larger one of the doctor's. Malcolm's attention riveted on her.

Hoshi.

A dream, Malcolm thought. Another wonderful, beautiful, painful dream.

He saw her smile hesitantly at him; that smile that could break a dozen hearts. Even if it was a dream, he had to touch her one last time.

Malcolm shrugged off the supporting hands of Archer and Tucker. Without their help, he lurched forward. Phlox hurried over to help him, but he slapped away the Doctor's hands. On unsteady feet, he made his way over to Hoshi who had not moved. He stopped right before her.

She continued to smile at him.

"Hoshi?" his hoarse whisper sounded grating and harsh to his own ears.

Malcolm reached out with a trembling hand to gently stroke Hoshi's cheek. He saw her eyes widen in surprise, but she didn't pull away or disappear in a cloud of smoke. He saw her look to a point behind him, a question on her face. Most likely, she was addressing her silent query to the Captain.

Her skin was soft and smooth and warm. Malcolm's fingers trailed down to gently trace the rosebud outline of her lips. Still she remained there. She didn't vanish. She wasn't a ghost or some figment of his imagination.

Hoshi was alive.

Overwhelmed, Malcolm fell forward to embrace her tightly. His tears began and he could not control them. Over and over he murmured her name in her hair, apologizing for his transgressions, inhaling her warm, alive scent as his body shuddered violently with his sobs.

His knees buckled and his weight dragged Hoshi down with him. They sank gently to the floor into a kneeling position. He could feel her body, rigid and uncertain, but he didn't care if she hated him for grabbing her. She was alive!

Then he felt her soften. Her slim arms wrapped around his body and gently held him. Her hands caressed his hair and back, all the while as she softly whispered gentle words of comfort in his ear.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: As I mentioned in Part 1, this is actually a story that appeared at the Hoshi Sato site, Linguistics Database. However, while I did do some editing and tweaking in previous parts there have been significant changes made to this part and the next and final part. In fact, this Part 10 is almost entirely new. Additionally, if I haven't been clear enough, the previous incident referred to in this part is the episode "Silent Enemy" from Season 1.**

Hoshi continued to murmur words of comfort as her hands sought to soothe Malcolm's distress. She looked over the Lieutenant's shoulder at the Captain and raised her eyebrows, her silent question eloquently written over her features, _What was going on?_

Archer shrugged, holding out his hands, palms up, his silent response equally easy to read. He didn't know why Reed was reacting to her this way.

She continued to awkwardly pat Reed on his back as Phlox came over and began to scan the armory officer. After a few moments, he spoke to Hoshi in a low voice. "Ensign, we need to get Lieutenant Reed to sickbay."

She nodded, but it was easier said than done. Reed was holding fast to her like she was…a lifeline.

"Sir," she said gently as she tried to push him a bit away from her body so she could help him to his feet.

Malcolm whimpered and held her tighter. He wouldn't let her go.

"Lieutenant Reed," she tried again. "Malcolm," she said his name in the softest, gentlest tones she had.

She felt his shuddering sobs subside and there was one last violent tremor. Malcolm took a deep breath and pulled back slowly to look into Hoshi's face. She smiled at him and then stood to help him to his feet.

He swayed and leaned heavily against her, causing her to almost tumble over. Phlox took one of Reed's arms and Trip hurried forward to help on the other side. However, as Hoshi started to step back to let the engineer take her place, Malcolm let out a strangled cry and clung fiercely to her.

The Enterprise crew exchanged surprised glances.

"I believe it would be best to have Ensign Sato accompany us to sickbay," Phlox said dryly.

Hoshi nodded and with the Doctor's help they walked Malcolm out of the shuttlebay.

Archer, T'Pol and Trip looked at each other.

"What was that all about?" Trip asked. "What did they do to him?"

Archer shrugged once more. "I'm sure we'll find out more once Hoshi gets a chance to translate those data modules we brought back." He frowned worriedly at the closed doors, his eyes turning unreadable. "I just hope we're not too late to help Malcolm."

**Captain's Log**

_Approximately seventeen hours ago we recovered our kidnapped armory officer, Lieutenant Malcolm Reed. He had been missing for six days ever since an alien vessel overtook the shuttlepod he was in and another vessel disabled the Enterprise. While I had my suspicions at the time, they weren't confirmed until we examined the brief scans we were able to take of the ship where the Lieutenant was held prisoner before it exploded. His abductors were indeed the hostile, silent aliens who scanned and then attacked us early in our mission on September 1, 2151._

_As noted in earlier log entries, Lieutenant Reed was testing experimental adjustments to shuttlepod two when an unknown vessel attacked and captured him. A second vessel, engaged the Enterprise in a firefight, preventing us from going to Mr. Reed's aid. The second vessel managed to damage the Enterprise's engines enough to prevent us from pursuing the vessel that had taken Mr. Reed._

_Working around the clock, Commander Tucker and his repair teams completed in three days what should have taken two weeks. I still do not know how he did it and to be honest, not all of the repairs are perfect. But it was enough to allow us to pursue Lieutenant Reed's captors. Now that we have recovered Lieutenant Reed, we have the luxury of fixing the remaining damage, while keep a vigilant watch for our attackers._

_While Mr. Tucker and his crew were repairing the enterprise, Subcommander T'Pol, Ensign Sato and Ensign Merryweather attempted to find the ship Mr. Reed was on. Through a combination of a partial warp signature that the Subcommander was able to record before the ship disappeared, Mr. Merryweather's excellent and instinctual navigational instincts and Ensign Sato's amazing ability to hear the slightest sounds on sub-frequencies, we were able to chart a direction and did succeed in finding Mr. Reed. We reached him within three days after regaining impulse power._

_When we came upon the ship, it was unescorted. Perhaps we had inflicted greater damage on its larger counterpart than we thought, but it was obvious from it's location that it was attempting to hide. Scans showed they had minimal weapons and after a token attack, the crew abandoned ship. We would have pursued, but scans showed that there was still one life form on the vacated vessel; a human lifeform. _

_To say we were shocked when we entered Lieutenant Reed's holding cell would be an understatement. Every detail of the Enterprise's brig had been replicated down to the minutest dent in the grating from where an errant tool had been dropped by Commander Tucker three months ago. This replication of detail leads me to believe that Lieutenant Reed's mind had been probed and an enormous amount of information had been extracted. If they got something as trivial and detailed as a dent in the grating, I have no doubt that they also have knowledge of all the weaponry and systems on Enterprise as well. Ensign Sato will likely confirm this once she has translated the information from the data modules we took from the ship, if that information is stored there, but I have no doubt that is what has happened._

_This knowledge of our technology in the hands of what is obviously a hostile race is of grave concern. They had scanned us once before, including two crewmen when we first encountered this species. I don't know if they are using what they might have learned as countermeasures for a future attack, but it is my recommendation that the Enterprise be retrofitted with the technological advancements Starfleet R&D has made in the last few months. We are plotting a course back to Jupiter Station and hope to reach it in three weeks._

_Another reason will be to assess Lieutenant Reed's condition. I am uncertain what he went through in his six days of captivity, but I do know that the man we rescued was not the same man I have come to know in the last few years. His attachment to Ensign Sato is perhaps the most surprising change in him. I do not know what has precipitated it. I had been under the impression that Mr. Reed's closest friend on Enterprise is Commander Tucker. Why is there this sudden need for Hoshi?_

_It can only be characterize as desperate, a need that seems to go beyond a simple friendship. It concerns me not only for fraternization reasons, but in this unpredictable place, these close ties we form can be both a blessing and a curse. I wonder if Hoshi feels as strong of a bond with Malcolm? I saw how concerned she was when he was taken, but I didn't sense anything that went beyond worry over a friend. Perhaps she feels-… Computer pause recording._

Archer shook himself, realizing he had strayed away from what would be appropriate in an official record. What was going on or not going on between Hoshi and Malcolm personally was irrelevant to these events and to Starfleet where this matter was concerned. But Archer himself could not quiet these thoughts or questions and worries that ran through his mind. He had many concerns beyond simple fraternization regulations. The idea of Hoshi and Malcolm in a relationship made him uncomfortable and he wasn't entirely sure why. Had he been more introspective he might have found an answer, but a part of him was extremely reluctant to do so and he merely put it down to his belief that they would not make the most compatible couple.

His lips quirked into a wry smile. It was ironic that the second time they would be attacked by this unknown alien race, Malcolm and Hoshi would somehow be linked again. The first attack was around Malcolm's birthday and Hoshi had been trying to find out what the Lieutenant liked to eat, a task Archer had set her on. Perhaps that had been the start of something between the two and Archer himself can be credited for putting that all into motion with that one simple assignment he gave the Ensign. If so, he may live to regret it.

"Computer, delete last paragraph and part of previous paragraph beginning with 'His attachment.'. Resume recording," he said, shaking away all other thoughts.

_Mr. Reed's unusual behavior is obviously a result of his captivity. Dr. Phlox has found numerous toxins and hallucinogenics in the Lieutenant's system. He is attempting to flush them out now, though it is a slow process hampered by Mr. Reed's continual agitation. He only seems calm when Ensign Sato is nearby. She is in sickbay with him until he can be stabilized enough for Phlox to sedate him. I only hope that Mr. Reed's other injuries can be so easily treated._


	11. Chapter 11

**_A/N: Sorry for the delay in this story, but I got sidetracked by other things. This is now complete. I hope folks enjoyed it!_**

Hoshi was beyond exhausted. She had already been getting very little sleep and rest while they searched for Malcolm. Now, she had been up for an additional seventy-two hours, practically all of them spent in sickbay. All Hoshi wanted to do was to crawl into her own bed and sleep for three days straight. It was not only physical fatigue that plagued her, but emotional and mental exhaustion as well.

Throughout the entire trip from shuttlebay to sickbay, Lieutenant Reed had maintained his steadfast grasp on Hoshi. It had been difficult for Phlox to examine the armory officer, but after much maneuvering, he was able to make a complete assessment of the Lieutenant's condition.

The foreign substances in Malcolm's body were slowly shutting down his vital organs. It would be no problem to flush them out of Malcolm's system, but to do that, he needed to remain still and he wouldn't stay still unless Hoshi was beside him. Phlox dared not sedate the lieutenant, uncertain of how the sedative would react to whatever his captors had drugged him with and the fact that the cleansing process would also remove whatever Phlox gave him. They had no choice but to keep Hoshi with Reed.

Reed had dropped off to sleep at one point and Hoshi, thinking he would be calm for at least a few hours, had slipped up to her station to begin work on translating the data modules brought back from the alien ship. However, she was only on the bridge for a half hour when Phlox requested she report back to sickbay. She exchanged looks with Captain Archer and he nodded his consent for her to go. She hadn't left since then.

Trip set up a small workstation for her in sickbay so she could do some work during some of the quieter hours she sat with Malcolm. Either the Captain or Trip would bring her something to eat and check on Malcolm's status, but neither stayed too long, Phlox insisting on a quiet environment for Reed. The Lieutenant had mumbled some incoherent sentences, but never truly seemed to understand what was going on around him. Phlox said it was merely the drugs in his system and that there were no permanent damages to Malcolm.

Permanent physical damages that is.

Even though she was constantly interrupted by Malcolm calling out to her, Hoshi was able to figure out the translation to the alien language fairly quickly. It wasn't too hard since some of it was in English. She saw the hologram programs to which Malcolm was subjected.

Her horror over the experience Lieutenant Reed had on the alien ship grew the more she delved into the files. T'Pol had exhibited extreme judiciousness in her selection of data modules. She later clarified that it was not her decision making that decided what was taken, she had simply grabbed everything, including, the recordings of Reed's captivity and the notes of his captors.

Sickened at heart as she combed through hours of tapes and read detailed report after detailed report, Hoshi glanced sorrowfully at the biobed Reed rested on. No wonder he had clung to her so fervently when he first saw her.

Hoshi took a second to gather herself as she stood outside the Captain's quarters. She should be sleeping. Phlox had finally flushed the last of the drugs out of Malcolm's system and was able to sedate him. The Lieutenant dropped off into a deep and healing sleep, freeing Hoshi up from sickbay.

The Doctor had glanced worriedly at her and told her to go to her quarters to get some sleep, but she knew the Captain was anxious to hear her report.

She hit the ringer on the door, announcing her presence.

"Come in!" she heard Archer call out.

Hoshi entered the Captain's quarters. Archer was dressed casually in a sweatshirt and jeans, reading a book with Porthos settled comfortably in his lap. He looked so calm, solid and comforting sitting there, that Hoshi felt slightly more relaxed knowing that soon she would be able to share with Jon what Malcolm had gone through, sharing the burden of knowing.

"Hoshi," he greeted her warmly. His smile faded as he took in the dark circles under her eyes and the pale pallor of her skin. Her back was straight as ever, but her shoulders had a slight, tired slump.

"Sir," Hoshi gave a curt nod, too tired to be polite. "Lieutenant Reed has finally dropped off to sleep. Dr. Phlox managed to get the last of the drugs out of his system and he expects the Lieutenant will sleep the better part of a day." She fought back a yawn and handed a data padd to the Captain. "I finished the translation of the data modules you brought back."

Archer looked gravely at Hoshi. Without a word, he got up and pushed her into a chair. He found a clean cup and poured some hot cocoa into it and wordlessly handed it to Hoshi. As she sipped the beverage, he swung his chair around to face her. He watched as the cocoa helped relax her and some of the tension leave her body.

"Sorry, no cheesecake to offer you. Okay Hoshi, let's drop the formalities. It's just the two of us here and I know you're too tired to remember proper protocol. Tell me what you found."

She smiled wanly at the Captain and rubbed her eyes in attempt to wake-up a bit more. Hoshi took a few more sips of the hot drink and felt somewhat more alert. She carefully set her cup down on a nearby side table and pulled out a data padd from her pocket. It contained the same information as the one she had just given the Captain. She could link his padd with hers and direct him to the particular parts she was referring to.

"We know that they managed to capture Malcolm's shuttle and took him prisoner. You and Trip were right in that they employed holo-technology to recreate the Enterprise brig."

Archer nodded, not hearing anything new. "The detail was amazing. They even had that dent on the grating next to the brig door."

"There's a reason for that," Hoshi said quietly. She indicated a spot in the report. "They probed his mind, his memories, essentially downloaded everything."

Archer looked at her in shock.

"Not only did they recreate the brig, they re-created us." Hoshi scrolled to another section in the report. "Those data modules you brought back also contained some interactive programs. I was able to activate them on our vid screens." She sighed. "The reason the Lieutenant was so…emotional, when he saw me was because he thought I was dead." She paused. "They made him think he killed me."

Archer let out a long breath as Hoshi's words sank in. He had been hunched forward, while listening to Hoshi, but her revelations made him sit back in his chair. He skimmed through her report, listening to her explain how Malcolm was kept locked in the cage they found him in, drugged to make him more compliant and accepting of what was going on around him. How, when the aliens realized the Enterprise was heading directly towards them they decided to abandon the ship and let it self-destruct, along with Malcolm on it. Rage boiled in Archer as he realized the extent of the inhumane treatment.

One part of the report made him pause and the Captain gave Hoshi a searching glance. "Any particular reason why they chose you to be the catalyst?"

Hoshi shrugged. "Everything was taken from Reed's viewpoint, his perception of people and events is how they molded the programs. They probably saw me as the weakest and most vulnerable person who had spent any significant amount of time with him."

"And that's it?"

Hoshi glanced sharply at the Captain, trying to ascertain what he was driving at, but he kept his expression neutral. Those who did not know Jonathon Archer well thought the man was an open book, someone who wore his heart on his sleeve and in many ways and most of the time they would be right. But those who truly knew Jon Archer were aware of the side of him that could be inscrutable, calculating and when necessary, manipulative. These weren't traits he showed that often and many times, his natural charm and warmth made one overlook them, but every now and then, when a situation desperately called for it, they appeared. "I can't say with absolute certainty, but it's a good guess," Hoshi replied cautiously. She didn't want to let on that part of the reason they had programmed the simulations the way they had was because they were using Malcolm's own perceptions and views of his fellow crew members and how they might react towards him in such an extreme situation. It spoke more of Malcolm's opinion of himself than what he thought of others. Hoshi understood that but she didn't think it would help explaining to the Captain that Malcolm saw him as something of a giant, avenging warrior who was in love with her.

Archer dropped the subject, but Hoshi could see he wasn't convinced. Internally she sighed and wondered if he was going to pursue it at a later time, probably when she wasn't prepared and hoping to catch her off guard. Jon also had a sneaky side. Archer continued to scroll through the padd. "But why?" Jon asked. "Why did they do this to Malcolm? They didn't need to torture him to get information. They already extracted it from him."

Hoshi allowed her shoulders to slump completely, fatigue and the knowledge of what her friend had endured nearly overwhelming her. "It was research. They were using the lieutenant as a lab rat." She let out a hollow laugh. "One of the 'scientist' referred to the experiment as a being the measure of man. They wanted to see what he could withstand and how long and what would ultimately break him."

Archer sighed again. "And I thought we've seen just about everything out here."

"Apparently not," was Hoshi's tart reply.

The Captain eyed his comm officer thoughtfully. His stare was so long and intense that Hoshi began to squirm in her chair.

"Okay, Jon, I know I look like hell, but there's no need to be rude about it," she snapped out finally as he simply continued to stare at her.

"Sorry Hoshi," Archer said as he finally broke off his gaze. He offered her a soft and winning smile. Hoshi eyed him suspiciously, her senses now on high alert. "I was just thinking. Malcolm is going to need someone to talk to about everything and since we have no counselors on board…"

"No. No, no, no," Hoshi shook her head vigorously. "I read all those databases, I've peeked into that man's head and I know things no one should be allowed to know unless that person tells you about it. I know too much about him."

"Which makes you the only person who can talk to him about it," Archer replied. He held up his data padd. "I know you left things out." He held up his hand to forestall any comments by her. "I know its all non-essential and related to private matters that should only concern Malcolm, I trust your judgment Hoshi, but you know about them nonetheless." His eyes were very serious. "He'll need you. He'll need a friend that understands and can help him through this, without having to explain everything himself."

The Captain would never know exactly how much she left out, especially the parts regarding their relationship or what Malcolm perceived her relationship was with Jon. Instead, Hoshi let out a long, annoyed breath. "Why, please tell me, why I'm constantly getting roped into doing things like this?"

Archer grinned that boyish smile of his that allowed him to get away with so many things, especially with her. Hoshi's response was a sour look. He got up and approached her chair. "Because I can only get away with asking you and Trip to do stuff like this and I know Trip will screw it up." He reached down and gently squeezed her arm. "Go to your quarters. Get some rest. Then you'll be able to think more clearly. Remember, I'm here as a sounding board if you need one."

It was a clear dismissal. Hoshi pushed herself wearily up and gave Archer a glare. He simply smiled back at her in that infuriating way he had and she rolled her eyes.

As Hoshi made her way to her quarters she considered the Captain's words. It will take Reed time to recover mentally, emotionally and psychologically. He clung to her now because her presence assured him that he did not kill her, but he would probably push her away once he physically recovered.

Hoshi sighed aloud. She knew men like Lieutenant Reed. They were self-sufficient and solitary. It will not be easy insisting he accept her help, especially when he realizes how much information she had seen.

Hoshi had more than a peek into Malcolm's mind. She had a grand tour. No one should have been forced to have their secrets, memories and thoughts exposed so completely. She saw his hopes, his fears, his desires and how he perceived his fellow crew members and how he thought they perceived him.

The young ensign knew that Lieutenant Reed admired Jonathan Archer so greatly that disappointing his Captain would be crushing to his own soul. But with that admiration also came a host of insecurities that ranged from insecurity of his own height in comparison to the taller man to worthiness of his place on the Enterprise.

Trip, the man who wore his heart on his sleeve for all the world to see, was Malcolm's most treasured friendship and Hoshi saw what the loss of that friendship would do to the armory officer.

The two aliens that served with their crew were viewed with respect though with some distance. T'Pol had a physical attractiveness that drew Malcolm, but her detachment and lack of emotions were often a too painful reminder of the coldness of his own upbringing. But Reed still admired her for her reasoning and level-headedness. While Phlox in some ways was the opposite of T'Pol's emotionless demeanor, his profession of doctor made Malcolm uncomfortable. A childhood filled with illnesses fed into the small phobia he had.

Happy, friendly Travis who never had a hidden agenda in his life could always put Malcolm at ease. Had he been a higher ranking officer, they might be even closer, but proper Malcolm always had to remember the differences in their ranks and the need of a distance to maintain discipline.

All people Malcolm cared about, all people his captors replicated and twisted in some way to heighten his fears of abandonment and isolation.

And what about Hoshi herself? What did she think of how Malcolm Reed saw her? Initially, to say she was a little angry and annoyed would be an understatement. Did he really see her as a victim? But as she continued to watch the tapes and go through the data, her attitude softened. Yes, he saw her as vulnerable, but he also saw her as warm, giving and loving. Idealized to be sure, but then again, how much did Malcolm really know about her? Afterall, he thought she and the Captain were in love with each other.

Hoshi squashed that thought immediately. She hadn't wanted to go there. While Malcolm seemed to have some exaggerated or even warped ideas about himself and his friends, he was also unerringly perceptive at times and perhaps a little too observant. It was what made him a good security officer.

There was a friendship between herself, the Captain and Trip that pre-dated the Enterprise. It wasn't something they advertised and Hoshi thought they kept it pretty well under wraps, but there were times they forgot themselves. She knew her familiar way of addressing the Captain at times had raised more than just T'Pol's eyebrows and Jon's over-protectiveness towards her seemed to go beyond just coddling of a nervous ensign. She was embarrassed though that Malcolm may have seen more.

Hoshi could honestly admit that at one time she had a crush on Jonathan Archer. She knew very few women who ever met the man and were straight who didn't have a crush on him (and probably several gay men as well). But it was something that she could laugh embarrassedly over, nothing more than that. She was just irritated that Malcolm seemed to have made it more than what it was.

And she was going to have to talk to Malcolm about all this? _Fat chance_.

She walked into her quarters, a comforting oasis in the sometimes chaotic world in which she lived and worked. She showered and changed into a pair of loose-fitting pants and a tank top, her feet in warm socks.

Her mind was racing at a breakneck pace, too active for her to go to sleep no matter how much her body protested.

Help Lieutenant Reed. That was all good and fine to be told to do that, but how?

Hoshi flopped down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, her hands pushing her hair off her face. She was a linguist, not a psychiatrist. What could she do? She could wind up hurting Reed more than helping him.

_Damn Jonathan Archer,_ she thought viciously. He always puts her in situations like this. Hoshi's feelings towards the man right now were definitely _not_ crush-like.

Hoshi closed her eyes and forced herself to relax. Fatigue finally won out and she felt herself drifting off into sleep. The comm button next to her bed rang. Blindly, Hoshi reached out to swat it.

"Ensign Sato?"

Hoshi groaned, recognizing Phlox's voice. "Yes?"

"I'm sorry to disturb you, but Mr. Reed has become agitated once again. I believe your presence would calm him down." He paused for a moment. "I know you're very tired, but I could set up a bed for you here."

Hoshi sighed softly and pushed herself up into a sitting position. "I'm on my way."

Hoshi entered sickbay, still in the loose-fitting pants and tank top, but she had slipped her feet into a pair of slippers and thrown a thin wrap top on. She saw that Malcolm was moving agitatedly in his sleep, twitching and mumbling. Her eyes met Phlox's.

"It would be better for Lieutenant Reed if he rested peacefully," Phlox explained. "I'm afraid if he keeps up this type of activity it will slow his recovery. Since you seemed to have such a calming affect on him…" His voice trailed off.

Hoshi nodded wearily and gave the doctor a wan smile. Phlox showed her the biobed he had set up next to Reed's that she could use and then left to finish some work in the back.

The lights had been dimmed. Hoshi carefully made her way over to Reed's bed. She could see the rapid eye movements beneath his lids as his dreams continued to torment him even though he was no longer a prisoner.

"Shhh," Hoshi hushed him as she gently brushed his hair off his forehead. "Don't worry, I'm here," she whispered.

The affect was almost immediate and Reed settled back down, twitching only now and then. After a few minutes, she started to move towards her own bed, but he seemed to sense her leaving. Reed whimpered slightly and began to flail his limbs again. Hoshi immediately hurried back to his side and calmed him down.

She couldn't stand beside his bed the entire night and possibly day as he slept. For a moment she was at a loss as to what to do. An idea came to her, but she hesitated, wondering how it would look.

_Oh, what the hell,_ she thought to herself.

Carefully, Hoshi climbed up onto Reed's biobed and molded her body against his, spooning him. One hand propped her head up as the other circled his body in a comforting embrace. He settled down immediately and became so still that Hoshi knew he had finally dropped off into a deep, healing sleep.

"Don't worry, I'm here," she repeated.

THE END


End file.
